A Million and One
by Abel Quartz
Summary: (Connverse fluff!) On Connie's 13th birthday, Steven's nowhere to be found. Connie storms over, and demands to find out the secrets to his isolation...


_(I just felt like Connverse fluff today. Enjoy!)_

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The screen door slammed once again as Connie shut her phone, the flip-screen snapping down with a viciousness that made Pearl flinch. It was not uncommon to see her student in a state of concentration or exuberant fury, but anger like this brought discomfort to the whole house.

"Where is he?"

"Connie, please – "

"I've been calling him all… Agh!"

She stomped up the stairs, her new dress – of course, Pearl only suspected it was new, having never seen it before – swirling behind her like a riptide as she scanned Steven's bedroom for clues. Connie narrowed her eyes at the literal paper trail, scrawls and scraps bunched up and torn and tossed to the ground. The girl uncurled the page, but all Steven's handwriting had been scrawled out in a thick marker.

"First, he doesn't show up for the party, now, he doesn't answer my calls, and now this?" Connie yelled.

This was not the time for retaliation, nor was it the time for acceptance. This was a moment of discipline. Pearl hardened her face into what she imagined was stoic resolve, an expression that faded as she walked up the stairs to see Connie sitting on Steven's bed, her face in her hands. Her beautiful sandals were dusty and her feet cracked and dry from the chilled November air. She had walked all the way here.

"Connie…" Pearl murmured.

She took a seat beside the child, their combined weight still barely making an impact on the mattress. Loose-leaf paper crunched underneath them.

"It's just so frustrating sometimes," the girl said at long last, pulling a tearstained hand away. "We share so many things, but he's still so secretive, like he doesn't want me to know anything except what he thinks I'll accept. Is there something he's hiding? Is there…something wrong with me?"

Lessons peeled away from the Gem's mind as Connie leaned against her, sniffling quietly in the early evening.

"It's not like that at all. There's nothing wrong with you, and Steven's, well, he's Steven. He's honest to a fault, and he knows he can't lie to you. But the truth isn't always easy to say, especially when you don't know what's going to happen after."

Connie nodded, forcing a smirk.

"What's the worst thing that could happen with the truth?"

"With Steven? Nothing serious."

Both of them laughed that off, quiet giggles of understanding. Both of them knew Steven inside and out, in two completely different ways, shared tangents of the boy's open nature. The young Gem was easier to read than he might like to seem sometimes.

"Do you know what all this is?" Connie asked, kicking a ball of paper.

Pearl picked one of the sheets up and uncrumpled it. Even with her acute understanding of messy human handwriting, the censorship was too much. She shook her head.

"He said he was working on something, and then it looked like he finished and that was the end of that," Pearl recalled, "although he did seem skittish when you called this morning. Then he just took off and said he'd be back later. We try not to bother him when he wants to be alone. After all, it gets him out of our hair for a bit, yes?"

"When did he leave?"

"About fifteen minutes before you came in."

"I'm afraid I don't know."

" _I_ do."

Garnet's voice came through the house with all the controlled strength of someone who knew just what they were doing. She smirked at the other's surprise, leaning against the kitchen counter. How long she had been there, and from where she had come, were mysterious and unnecessary questions. Garnet had snuck up on them, and neither Pearl nor Connie was questioning her arrival.

"Where?" Connie asked, springing up from the bed.

"He's on the beach, by the rocks where you first fused."

Garnet wasn't even trying to hide her smile at Connie's flushed excitement. The girl ran down the stairs towards the door, but paused running back to throw her arms around the Gem's body in a thankful embrace.

"Thank you!" she whispered.

Wiping her eyes, she bolted back out into the coldness of the bare earth, feet pounding against the wooden floor as she rushed from the house.

The two Gems watched Connie sprint down the stairs towards the sand. Pearl sighed and rested her cheeks in her hands. Garnet glanced over at her, her expression as erased as usual. Behind her visor, she knew that Pearl had doubts about human relationships. But this was something present, something entirely knew. The two kids growing up were a sight to behold.

As much as curiosity pushed them, neither followed Connie as she ran down the beach. If Steven could hardly present himself alone, then the Gems' presence wasn't going to make anything better. Instead, as Connie slowed to a slow walk, she found that she was completely by herself.

Well, almost. The only exception was the boy sitting in the sand, his sweatshirt pulled tightly around his body, his boots sinking into the soft ground. He was staring at a piece of paper that he had wrinkled and smudged, pen marks in the margins and frustrated scribbles on the whiteness. It was like looking at a painter's palette.

The whistle of the wind over the ocean was enough for Connie to approach without the sand of her shaking feet carrying over to Steven. It was colder than she had hoped, but with the sun going down over the clear horizon, there wasn't any reason not to be chilled though. Her dress wasn't threadbare, but it wasn't much protection against the weather.

Connie cleared her throat. Steven nearly jumped out of his skin, clutching his pages to his chest with a frightened squeak. He stared at her now, with tired eyes locked on her face. The dress swirled around her, a pale blue fading to white at the hem. The girl had her hair back, pulled into a complex braid. As she knelt on the shore, however, she reached back and undid the bonds that held her in place. Lengths of black hair brushed away into the wind, their curls twisting in convoluted bonds.

"I'm ready," she said, folding her hands in her lap.

Steven turned to face her, his face burning cherry-red, still not able to pull out the pages. His breathing was rattled and sharp, but one deep inhalation later, he forced himself to calm. Anxiety wasn't helping him here. Nothing could help now – especially not Connie.

"I don't know if I am."

"Take your time."

He had a mission. Clearing his throat, he pulled the pages from his chest and stared at them, the words coming to mind slowly. A poem – Connie smirked. She should have known. All the lines, all the pages, were Steven trying to get his thoughts together. He was a good lyricist, but Connie knew the struggle. Something told her he was dealing with more than words.

Steven didn't speak a single word for an awkward stretch of time, relenting to an anxious sigh. What could he say that hadn't been said already, internally or otherwise? But that was the whole point, perhaps.

"The first time I saw you, I wanted to write

A song so that I could impress.

But you were a stranger, so I took it slow –

We both ended up in a mess.

"As we had adventures, I started to think

That music just couldn't compare

To sounds of you laughing, the shape of your smile,

The waves of the wind in your hair.

"I tried it regardless, I couldn't give up,

But every note still sounded wrong.

The reason is easy – no song is complete

Without your voice singing along.

"So what can I give you that says something else,

Beyond what's already out there?

I wish I could speak without feeling so small,

But hearts aren't that easy to share.

"And still there are never enough things to say

Nor pieces of paper on Earth

To tell you your greatness, your beauty, your mind,

How much that you truly are worth.

"I know you've read millions of love poems before,

But I hope that when this is through,

That this one means something a little bit more

Because it's a love poem for you."

And just like that, he was finished. Salt brushed over the pages, stiffening them in Steven's hands. The two teenagers – one of them freshly so – looked back up at each other. Connie's hand came back down to her dress, and Steven caught the glimpse of a tearstain from where she had tried to discreetly wipe it away.

Before she could open her mouth, the boy leaned over and pulled on her hand as he stood.

"It's too cold to stay out here," Steven murmured, glancing at the dying light. "We should head back to the house. Pearl can make us some tea."

"I'll call my mom and tell her I'm staying for a bit."

For how long? he didn't ask. He didn't want to count down the moments until Connie had to go. Instead, holding hands, the two started the walk back towards Steven's house. Their footprints blew away with the wind, leaving only smooth sand behind them.


End file.
